Of HalfBreeds and Hatred
by randomfreak-11189
Summary: The rebellion continues... Set immediately after 'Eldest'.
1. Chapter 1

"Of Half-Breeds and Hatred"

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Eragon story, nor any of the characters. The only things I own are the plot and the new characters.

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Eragon climbed over the wreckage of the battlefield on the plains. The smoke blinded him, and the only movement he could see were the carrion birds swooping over the bloodied desert. Eragon had volunteered in the cleanup, and Saphira had come with him. _There is so much carnage here Saphira, _Eragon felt his eyes stinging, _so much death, all because of the Empire._

Saphira's blue bulk shifted over to him. _The carnage here was caused by Galbatorix and his underlings. Do not weep for the Kings losses, little one. I know that many of the men were conscripts, but we had to kill them or they would have destroyed us, and all we stand for._

_I know Saphira, but that does not make the knowledge any easier to bear._ Eragon stopped, and stooped over a dead man, one of the many enemies now lying on that battlefield. _This man was barely my age, and he most likely didn't have a choice to come here, to die here._ Saphira bent over Eragon, and looked at him with one large, cobalt eye. _He may not have had a choice, but Galbatorix did, and it is him that we should blame for this young man's death._

Eragon stood, and wiped his face with the back of a sleeve. _I know Saphira._ He looked at her, her blue eyes full of sorrow, and hate for the evil king. _And we will destroy him._ Saphira growled her approval then said, _Aye, I agree. But we must first help by burning the ones lying here, and then we can continue our training with Oromis and Glaedr. _

Eragon smiled, a grim smile, and then climbed upon Saphira without another word between them.

Saphira launched herself into the air, and Eragon smiled. He loved flying more then anything else, and even after the carnage of the past few days, he still revelled in the feeling of complete freedom.

Saphira swooped over the body strewn plain and let out an enormous burst of sapphire tinged fire. The bodies touched by the fire turned to ash, and as she swooped again, Eragon drew on the magic inside his mind and spat out the word,

"Brisingr!" A pile of at least fifty bodies caught aflame. He gave a bleak smile, and then turned his attention away as he and Saphira continued to burn the bodies strewn over the battlefield.

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The Ra'zac moved. It had been hiding in the forests of the spine for the weeks since the battle ended. It had fled the battlefield before their enemy's victory. It had known that the end was coming, and that its brethren had fallen to the cold steel of the enemy's sword. The Ra'zac had run to the east ever since it left, knowing that the Spine was its only refuge, a place to lick its wounds and avoid the vengeful forces of the King, who would not be pleased that the battle had been lost.

It had made it to the mountains and woods of the spine safely, and the only problem now was how it was to find food. The Ra'zac had been able to survive on rabbits and other game, but it knew that his only food source was rapidly declining in size due to his meal size, and the number of times he had to feed. It knew that it had to find humans; or it would be dead within a week.

At first it had travelled to Carvahall, in hope that a stray human had survived it and its brethren's attacks, but to no avail. It had then scoured the entire western slopes of the Spine, trying to find a village large enough that one or two missing people would not be noticed, and remote enough that there would be no-one near to help his potential food. It had to be careful, oh so careful if it didn't want to be noticed, for if it was, the potential feeding ground would be closed off to him, and it would perish.

When it had gone as far south along the western slope as was safe, it then turned east, hoping for a more plentiful supply of humans near the sea.

It had been right, though it took it longer then it had hoped to find a suitable village. It was in the far north of the spine, near the sea, and it suited the Ra'zac perfectly.

From the little information that the Ra'zac had been able to glean from its unusually good hearing and sight it was able to tell that the medium size town was called Keltei, and its occupants were unworried about attack from anyone. The town was in a valley between two large ridges leading up into the mountains of the Spine, and the area was densely wooded, leaving the Ra'zac ample opportunities to take its prey.

It was pacing up and down the hillside near the village, looking for a possible meal. Then it stopped. A small boy had wandered up to the top of a rise near where the Ra'zac was hiding. It was nearly dark, and the boy continued along his way, determinedly tottering up the gentle slope towards the woods.

The Ra'zac glanced around, carefully assessing its surroundings. There was no one near the boy, he had no guardian on his meandering journey, and the Ra'zac knew that the time was ripe.

The Ra'zac moved. And it crept slowly closer to its prey.

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Eragon was exhausted. It had taken him and Saphira days to finally rid the plain of most of the corpses, and even still there were a few bodies blackening in the sun, releasing their stomach churning stink.

He was now sitting in a small tent that had been allocated to him, with enough room for Saphira to sleep outside. She poked her head in through the tent flap, and looked at Eragon as he lay on his bedroll. _We're leaving for Ellesmera in the morning. You should pack._ Eragon looked up at Saphira, and then nodded. He was too tired to talk, but he slowly rose from the bed roll and started putting his belongings into a pack that would be tied onto Saphira as they travelled.

He glanced up as Saphira stopped his movements around the tent with her nose, and he raised an eyebrow. _What is it?_ When she didn't answer, Eragon began to worry. _Saphira, what is it? What aren't you telling me?_

_I just want to be sure that you're alright. You've been very quiet the past few days, and you haven't been letting me speak to you as often as you did before this battle. I'm worried about you._ Eragon gave a small smile, and reassured her, _I'm fine, really. Its just seeing so many wasted lived is not an experience that I wanted to have, even if I do want Galbatorix dead._

_You haven't spoken of Murtagh since we saw him with, _she paused, and Eragon could feel the hostility radiating outward from all over her scaled body, _Since we saw him with his d-dragon._ The word was hesitant, and she seemed to drag out the sound of the word.

_I cant believe that there is another one, _Eragon stayed silent, and waited for Saphira to work her way around to the real heart of the matter. _I just can't understand why Galbatorix wants _me_ to breed with the next dragon that hatches, and not his precious Thorn._ Eragon at last knew what had been bothering her, and he also was confused. _I don't know why he wants you to breed with the next one,_ Eragon laid a reassuring hand on Saphira's neck, _Maybe it's because you are the only dragon that is pure._

Saphira snorted, nuzzled Eragon affectionately, then left the rooms for him to pack.

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The child was nearly all the way up the hill, heading a little to the left of the Ra'zac's hiding place. The hideous creature got ready to spring at the unsuspecting figure.

"Bierda? Where are you?"

The voice startled the Ra'zac, and it moved, ever so slightly, backwards, further into the bushes. As the Ra'zac crouched in the trees, it saw a young woman walk up the hill towards the boy. She had thick black hair that fell to her waist, and her eyes were a pale amber colour. She moved up the hill seemingly without any movement on her part, her feet looked like they were barely touching the ground, and she made no noise as her small feet traversed the grassy slope. The Ra'zac felt an abnormal fear, and it shuffled further backwards.

At the small sound, the amber eyes, which had been scanning the sloped area, stopped moving and fixed onto the bushes where the Ra'zac was hiding. The woman, never taking her eyes from the bushes, quickly ushered the boy down the slope, telling him to go home to his family. She then headed back up the hill towards the bushes of the Ra'zac. The creature moved again, taking greater care not to make a sound. It felt something emanating from the tall, plainly clothed figure in front of it, and whatever this power was, it wasn't friendly. The tall, slender woman stopped in front of the wooded copse, and spat a single word.

"Brisingr."

The Ra'zac saw, and felt nothing. It began to smile, if the hideous expression that appeared on its face could be called a smile, and it leapt out of the bushes, its beak aimed at the woman's long, pale neck. As it hurtled through the air, it felt something was all of a sudden…wrong. The Ra'zac crashed to the leafy ground, and it stared up into the impassive face of the golden-eyed woman above him. As it lay there, a burning sensation welled up inside the creature. It gave one strangled squawk, then burst into flames.

The young woman watched, the red fire lighting her face, her features full of a cold satisfaction. The woman turned, and walked away with no reaction other then the words, the cold, yet venomous words,

"This is what you get, Ra'zac, when you meddle with a half-breed."

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Hey, to any readers out there, please review! Any constructive criticism is most welcome, as this is my first Eragon fic, and only the second fic I have actually written. So, many thanks to any readers who feel compelled to review my fic!

randomfreak


	2. Chapter 2

Eragon was back in Ellesmera, and he was glad of it. The trees seemed to greet him as he and Saphira flew in over the heavy green canopy, and the elves in the houses in the trees also waved up at them. Eragon had not quite gotten over the scenes of carnage that haunted his mind still, but the presence of the forest and its inhabitants helped to ease his and Saphira's combined sorrow, and fear.

_It is good to be back! I feel as if the world has been restored after the battle._ Eragon smiled at the sentiment, and then agreed, _Yes, it is good. But I wonder how long it will last._

Saphira shifted uncomfortably in flight at his last comment, but Eragon didn't need to speak with her to know that she agreed. The life in Ellesmera was good, but as long as Galbatorix ruled, peace would never be guaranteed. He only wished he could aid the elves and the Varden in fighting him, before the King destroyed all of Algaesia.

The emerald trees were a blur beneath them, and Eragon was almost glad that his preoccupation with flying prevented him from thinking or remembering to much of the horror that the previous days had brought. As Eragon was thinking, he felt Saphira slow her flight down considerably. He sent an enquiring thought, and waited for her answer, _We are nearly there, young one._ Eragon was mildly surprised; Saphira had taken much longer when they left the forest for the war. _You have grown,_ he thought to her, _You took much longer to leave the forest then to re-enter it._

Saphira sent a thought-smile, then replied, _I have changed, my stamina seems to have increased greatly._

Eragon nodded, and then waited as they approached their tower, where they would rest and recover from the weary work they had done.

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Eragon woke. It had been two day since he had arrived back at Ellesmera, and he was close to feeling himself again. _Whatever that is_, he added cynically. He rose from his bed, and glanced at the nest that Saphira had made to sleep in. She was gone, and Eragon cast his mind around, searching for her.

She was flying near the Beor's with Glaedr, who was teaching her some refined hunting techniques. Saphira had almost left her attraction to him behind, and what was left of it was now only a deep respect for his wisdom.

_Will you be with him all day? Because I plan to take a walk to the centre and greet, err, the elves._ Saphira wasn't fooled, _You mean Arya? _When Eragon didn't reply, she continued, _I am not a hatchling Eragon; I know that you wish to greet her._ Eragon's feeling of foolishness radiated out of him, and he was thankful that no one was in the tower with him. _Well, what if I do want to see Arya. Is that wrong of me?_

_No,_ Saphira replied, _But you know that she is not going to respond to you in the way that you hope._ Eragon sighed at the empty room, _Well, I can always try._

He walked down the stairway of the tower, and set off for the practice courts, hoping to borrow a sword from the armoury. He felt naked without Zar'roc, and ever since it was taken from him by Murtagh he felt like he could not defend himself adequately without using magic. His bow was only so effective, and useless for close combat.

The courts were eerily absent of the noises of combat, the only one there was him, the rest of the elves seemed to be resting after the war. The door to the armoury was unlocked, and he helped himself to a sword as close to Zar'roc as he could find.

He entered one of the marked squares on the court, and began a pattern dance. He would have preferred to fight a proper opponent, but in the absence of elves, a pattern dance would do the job.

He quickly picked up the pace of thrusts, cuts, and blocks which were elements of the dance, and lost himself in them. The scenery seemed to blur, and the sword seemed to become one with his arm, but never to the extent that Zar'roc had been. He had not blunted the sword, expecting no interruption, but he was still semi-aware of his surroundings. When he saw another sword arc through the air towards him, he immediately shifted from the dance to an overhead block. He was startled to see Rhunon, the master forger, wielding the blade.

"What are you doing?" His only answer was an unnaturally fast thrust from her sword, and he stumbled backwards, sweat dripping in his eyes. The blacksmith used this moment, to give him a hearty swipe across the shoulder, and Eragon was surprised when he felt no pain. She had dulled the edge of her blade, but instead of striking again, she backed off, and then rose from her crouch.

She lowered her blade, and spoke quietly to him, her voice dripping fury, "You let Murtagh steal my blade. You should pay dearly for this, and it is only through the grace of the royal family that I don't kill you where you stand."

Eragon was baffled. He knew that Zar'roc was among Rhunon's best blades, but he did not understand why she should be so obviously furious about the loss.

"The sword may have been stolen from me, and I am deeply sorry for that, but why are you acting like this?" At the best of times the blacksmith was ill-tempered, but this was far beyond her usual brand of irritability. "Why do you attack me Rhunon Elda?"

The elf sighed, and after some hesitation looked at him and answered. "You know I swore an oath to never create another sword?" When Eragon nodded, she continued, "I made another oath, before I started giving my swords to riders. I swore that I would never let one of my swords do evil in the hands of another. Unfortunately the thirteen forsworn used my sword for evil, but only one is still alive, the greatest of them, Galbatorix."

She looked away from Eragon, through the gleaming foliage behind him, and continued in a softer voice. "For a while I hoped that the sword, Zar'roc, would be freed from its evil use, when you acquired it, but now it has been stolen by Murtagh, and its evil use has made me break my oath again."

Her gaze returned to Eragon, "I am sorry for attacking you. It was not right of me to blame you for Murtagh's evil."

She started to walk away, then paused for a moment. "The blade in your hand is not fit for one as good with the sword as you; it is a practice weapon, not meant for a rider." Rhunon looked him over carefully once more. "Perhaps, if you are interested, you could come to my shop on the morrow and I could supply you with a sword fit for you?" When Eragon opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off, "I would not be creating a new sword, I would be taking an older sword that I myself did not forge, and passing it on to one who needs it." At this the woman left, leaving Eragon somewhat stunned in the middle of the courts.

He searched for Saphira, who was still flying with Glaedr, _I don't think I will ever understand the ways of elves, they are a very confusing race._

Saphira replied fairly promptly, _Aye, we cannot understand them, but, be it good or no, they understand us far too well._

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The woman had moved back to the village, leaving behind her charge at the house of his parents, and the ashes of the Ra'zac smouldering on the hillock. She strode into the woods and started into the base hills of the spine. She strode through the woods, her steps lengthening as she broke into an easy trot up the sheer slope.

The woman kept running until she reached a small clearing about three or four hundred yards up the hills, and stopped as she surveyed the small log house that was nestled into the trees. "Home sweet home," she muttered as she walked through the door, her head nearly scraping the top of the frame, and sat down in a small chair.

She rested her head on her arm, though not as if she were tired, but merely felt a heavy weight around her neck.

The woman rested for a moment, then stood again, her strange golden eyes gleaming like a cats in the gathering darkness. She walked over to the door, and yelled a name into the air. The word echoed around the clearing, and she leant against the door frame, and waited.

The world above the house seemed to shift as a heavy wind broke swept through the darkness, and the woman stepped outside, the strong wind giving her long black hair a life of its own. The wind grew stronger, and just as it seemed the woman would be lifted from the ground, it stopped. An enormous, heavy something the size of a small mountain hit the ground, and turned its head towards the young woman. She smiled, and spoke silently with it for several minutes before reaching out to stroke the silver scaled nose.

"The Ra'zac was thin, it hadn't eaten in several days, and a Ra'zac never starves by choice. There was a war, at last, and I think it's time that we went home at last."

A snort, and a small spout of flame greeted the remarks. The woman gave a small mirthless chuckle, "Oh, yes. They may need us, but I don't think they'll be pleased to see us nonetheless. But, pleasing them was never my prerogative, nor yours I think."

The mouth spurted flame again, and she smiled. "Well, let's be off then, shall we? Its time we revisited Ellesmera."

A short time later, two pairs of strangely glowing amber eyes could be seen flying through the dark.

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Sorry for the lack of updates, but I hope to fix that. As always, please review and thanks for reading!


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